He dropped down by one of the fires, in his clothing, and was sleeping almost at once, as soundly as a child.
The lieutenant in command of the troopers awoke him at the end of his brief nap. Then, once more, the redoubtable scout was in the saddle, this time leading the troopers forth toward the discovered camp of the desperadoes of the Sepulcher Mountains.
The men under Buffalo Bill gained the base of the mountain over against the outlaw camp shortly before daylight, having ridden hard to accomplish it.
There the horses were left, one man out of four dropping back to hold them, while the other three went forward. Buffalo Bill again led the advance, up the slopes of the mountain.
His spying of the previous afternoon had convinced him of the folly of trying to take those barricades by assault. He did not doubt the courage and ability of the troopers, than whom braver men never lived, but it would have been criminal, he felt, to ask them to lay down their lives in front of those deadly barricades when the camp might be taken in an easier way. His plan was to climb the mountain, and descend in the darkness just before the dawn upon the outlaw camp, endeavoring by this descent and the suddenness of the attack to surprise and stampede its defenders.
In spite of his strenuous efforts to get down the slope while the darkness was densest, the very fact that the darkness was so great kept the scout from doing this. For the descent had to be made with caution; and, consequently, was made with wearying slowness.
The gray dawn was in the east when the troopers crouched like mountain lions on the rocky ground that overhung the outlaw camp.
Down in the camp there was some kind of stir, though what it meant could not be determined. In the gray light the shapes of the low huts were almost indistinguishable. The sentries that the scout knew were there could not be seen, for not a light flickered, and no camp-fire glow was seen. Nevertheless, he was sure that behind the barricades the outlaws were waiting and watching, and that alert sentinels were making their ceaseless and vigilant rounds.
Suddenly a single revolver shot sounded down in the camp, breaking with startling clearness on the still air of the dawn. Following it there was an excited clamor.
Buffalo Bill did not know what that shot meant. He realized that it might be a signal that he and the troopers had been discovered. Yet he did not hesitate, but gave instantly the command to charge, hoping to gain some advantage by the excitement and confusion into which the outlaws seemed to have been thrown.